


Whatever the Price

by andabatae



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angsty crack, Comedy, Crack, Dark, Dark Comedy, F/M, Fix-It, Horror, Maybe darkfic?, Maybe really fucking sad, Meta, Post-TRoS, Yeah both at once I said what I said, canonverse, fuck capitalism, happy ending if you squint, i have no idea how to tag this, it's me screaming at Disney and capitalism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22764376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae
Summary: When Ben’s awareness returns, he’s standing somewhere he doesn’t recognize. A clear, hazy window is directly in front of him, revealing a blurry, brightly-colored world. He’s tied up, he realizes when he tries to move. His ankles, wrists, and neck are secured to the wall behind him. A prisoner, then."Where am I?" He asks, but no words come out. It’s only a thought, drifting from his head like smoke. He feels hollow, frozen, hard like stone. Whatever drugs his captor gave him have locked his muscles up tight."I don’t know," a soft female voice responds in his mind. "But we need to get the fuck out."
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 28
Kudos: 58





	Whatever the Price

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dankobah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankobah/gifts), [klutzybriefing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzybriefing/gifts).



> This is... something. Yeah. I don't want to put spoilers in the tags because I think the gradual reveal is great, but if you really want to know what's up with this fic, click through to the end notes. It's a lot of pontificating about TROS and capitalism and the fandom and why Reylo is the best, though, so I hope you'll give this crack fic a chance.
> 
> This is weird. And sad. And... not going to get happier, although hopefully you will laugh a lot?? I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

When Ben’s awareness returns, he’s standing somewhere he doesn’t recognize. A clear, hazy window is directly in front of him, revealing a blurry, brightly-colored world. He’s tied up, he realizes when he tries to move. His ankles, wrists, and neck are secured to the wall behind him. A prisoner, then.

 _Where am I?_ He asks, but no words come out. It’s only a thought, drifting from his head like smoke. He feels hollow, frozen, hard like stone. Whatever drugs his captor gave him have locked his muscles up tight.

 _I don’t know,_ a soft female voice responds in his mind. _But we need to get the fuck out._

He jolts at the sound—or he would, if he could move. _Rey?_

He can feel her Force signature now, a warm, comforting buzz that makes him feel like he’s being rubbed all over by velvet. She’s close, very close, and he stretches his mental senses out to feel her.

She’s right next to him.

For a moment, he’s so happy he could cry. Oddly, though, his eyes refuse to water. He can’t even blink.

Something terrible has happened to him… which means something terrible has probably happened to her, too.

 _What happened?_ he asks. _The last I remember we were on Exegol._

She sobs in his head. _You died, Ben. You died and left me all alone._

No. That can’t be right. Except… Yes, it’s all coming back to him now. Her still, limp corpse, her wide, staring eyes. His decision to do whatever it took to bring her back.

 _I wanted you to live,_ he says honestly. _That was the most important thing._

 _No, the most important thing was being together!_ She’s angry at him, he can tell by the way her Force signature starts to burn. As a darksider, he would have loved that sensation, but he abandoned the dark when he threw his lightsaber away. He’s Ben now, _her_ Ben.

Or something like it, at least.

Pieces of his awareness return one at a time, and now he realizes his skin isn’t his own. It’s hard, unyielding. His chest doesn’t rise and fall with breath. Where once his heart pounded with hate and need and, yes, love, now there’s nothing.

Maybe he really is dead.

But if that’s true, then…

 _Why are you here?_ he asks, starting to panic. _You should have lived. You were meant to live!_

He feels her sigh, even though it’s inaudible. _Not without you,_ she says sadly. _We’re a dyad in the Force, Ben. The same soul in two bodies. What do you think happens when one of those bodies dies?_

 _No._ He can’t take this, can’t take being the cause of yet more pain for her. _No!_

 _It didn’t happen right away,_ she says. _I just felt worse and worse every day. Tired. Slow. And lonely, so lonely…_

 _I’m so sorry,_ he says. He wants to cry, but his eyes are stuck open, and there isn’t a single flicker of life or moisture anywhere in his body. _I didn’t realize. I just wanted to you to live…_

 _I know. But when I realized I was dying…_ She trails off, and for a while Ben just stares at the blurry, brilliant world beyond his prison. The window is large, stretching from below his feet to above his head. The shapes that move beyond it are big and frightening.

 _What?_ he asks finally, when it seems like Rey has decided to stop talking.

 _I was happy,_ she says.

That simple statement wrecks him. If he could double over in pain, he would. _You were supposed to grow old with your friends. Have adventures. Be a light in the galaxy._

 _With half a soul?_ she asks. He imagines the way her hazel eyes would snap with fire if she could confront him face to face. _No, Ben. That isn’t any kind of life._

 _But still…_ He pauses to gather his thoughts. He loves Rey, but he doesn’t always understand her moments of fervent belief, even though he wants to. _Why were you happy to die?_

This time when her Force signature brushes against his, it’s soft and warm, if still melancholy. _I was happy because I would finally get to be with you._

#

They stand in their prison for a long time. The bright lights and bustling shapes outside don’t change much, until suddenly they do. The world beyond the window is plunged into blackness, illuminated by a few distant red lights.

No one comes to get them, though, and the hours creep by slowly. They spend the time talking. Reminiscing about the past, arguing, picking open the scabs that cover their mental wounds. It’s painful and good at the same time, and as they both cry internally, Ben feels those invisible injuries start to heal.

The whole time they stand, stone-still and outwardly silent. Rey can’t move, either. She, too, is restrained the way he is. For some reason, neither of them feel the need to use the restroom or eat or do any of the mundane tasks that keep a human being going. Ben used to find such interruptions a nuisance, but now he misses them. The feeling of a full stomach, the odd pleasure of relieving a straining bladder, the way he breathed and moved and _lived_ like any other person in the galaxy... At the very least, it was a reminder he existed.

Now he’s… what?

 _I thought the Afterlife would be a bit more… interesting than this,_ he says when they’ve been lost in the dark for what his internal clock tells him is at least five hours. _Not that talking to you isn’t interesting, but what about the Otherworld, the cycle of reincarnation, the Living Force?_

 _I never paid much attention to that part of the Jedi texts,_ Rey admits, _but this does seem a bit anticlimactic._

 _Maybe the Corellians were right about Chaos_ , he says, _where the evil and damned have to spend eternity. If this is some kind of hell, though, why would you be here with me?_ Rey is goodness and light. She doesn't belong anywhere that doesn't make her happy. _  
_

_I don’t believe in Hell,_ she says. _And even if I did, I don’t think you should end up there._

She’s as stubborn as ever, and the sentiment makes Ben’s heart hurt in a good way. If there’s one constant when it comes to Rey, it’s her loyalty to the people she deems hers. For some reason, Ben is lucky enough to be one of them, even though he doesn’t deserve it. _Why not?_ he asks. _I did awful things._

 _Everyone’s done awful things_ , she says _. Do you know how many stormtroopers I killed? Or how many Finn did, even though he used to be one of them? And Luke gets to hop around the galaxy as a Force ghost, even though he blew up millions of people on the Death Star._

 _Yeah, but he wore white while doing it,_ Ben says.

 _I think he wore an orange flight suit, actually,_ Rey says, missing the sarcasm. _But anyway, redemption has to count for something. If not, what’s the point?_

_Of what?_

_Of life. What’s the point of a balance between light and dark if the dark is always damned? What reason is there to hope for atonement or redemption? What point is there in being sorry for what you’ve done or trying to make amends?_

_I don’t know,_ Ben says. He isn’t sure there is a point, not if this is what comes of repentance. If it was just him suffering, it would be one thing, but Rey’s here, too, and that simply isn't fair. _Maybe you were punished for believing in me._

 _That’s bantha poodoo,_ Rey says, and Ben feels a ghost of amusement at her foul-mouthed vehemence. _The Force isn’t like that. It doesn’t pick sides. It shouldn’t, at least._

 _I wonder who decides what the Force is like?_ he muses. _Maybe there’s some galactic corporation out there, tallying our rights and wrongs, deciding what justice is._

 _Or maybe the Force didn’t do this,_ Rey says. _Maybe this is something else._

Before he can ask what else it would be, the lights outside flood on again. It’s blinding, and his eyes burn, but he can’t close them. At the end of the long white corridor they seem to be in, something large is moving in a steady pattern, back and forth, pushing a brown object before it. It almost looks like…

 _Rey,_ he says. _Is that someone sweeping?_

He can’t look at it directly with the way his head is turned slightly, but he can catch its movements out of the side of his eye. It does look like a person, distorted though the shape is by the uneven glass in front of him. A person with a red shirt, pushing a brown broom, but the scale is all wrong. It must be…

 _A giant?_ Rey asks, coming to the same conclusion as him.

 _What else?_ The closer the being gets, the more Ben realizes the massive scale it’s built on. This thing could easily wrap a hand around his middle.

 _I’ve never seen one,_ Rey says. _But I’ve heard of some. Is it a Mandallian Giant?_

_No, those are green._

_A Gorax?_

_Not enough hair._

_A Frost Giant?_

_Not icy-looking enough._

_Then what?_ Rey asks, exasperated.

 _I don’t know,_ Ben says, watching the giant approach. _I’ve never seen anything like this._

The creature stops in front of them. Ben’s eyes are level with its waist, but it leans down, studying their prison. It looks like a human male, built on an unbelievable scale. His eyes are brown, and his cheeks are spattered with red acne pustules.

Ben braces himself as the giant reaches out a finger to poke the window. To Ben’s surprise, it crinkles and indents a little, like a giant sheet of flimsiplast.

“Gross,” the thing rumbles in a voice that is too deep and loud for Ben’s ears. “Fucking Reylos.”

What? Ben can feel Rey’s matching bafflement as the giant starts sweeping again, moving his way down the corridor. Soon, he’s out of sight.

 _What’s a Reylo?_ Rey finally asks. _Some alien species?_

 _Must be. Maybe he’s never seen a human before._ But the encounter gives Ben a strange sort of hope. _Rey, what if we aren’t dead, after all? What if we really are prisoners?_

 _Why haven’t I had to pee yet?_ Rey asks with her trademark bluntness. _Or eat? You know me; I’m always hungry._

 _True._ That is perhaps the second most consistent trait of Rey, after the loyalty. After years of a starvation, she eats with the enthusiasm and lack of discrimination of a junkyard dog. _I was going to bring you a Jogan fruit, you know. Among other things._

 _When? s_ he asks, curiosity sparking across the bond.

_Whenever the war was over. Whenever I could take you with me to explore the galaxy. I thought about feeding you all the things you never got to try._

Her sigh echoes in his head. _I would have liked that._

They fall into silence then, the mental bond humming as each of them ponders the situation. Every emotion and thought bears an undercurrent of longing, the bittersweet musings of _what if_ that Ben has never been particularly good at resisting.

He tried to ignore all the _what ifs_ after he left his family behind and shed the Solo name. What if his parents wanted him? What if he uncle didn’t fear him? What if there were no dark voices in his head? Those thoughts were poison, though, or so they seemed during his Kylo Ren years.

With Rey, though, the _what ifs_ became sweeter. _What if she can change? What if she chooses me?_ And, finally, _what if_ I _can change and choose her?_ The regrets of the past became hopes for the future, and slowly, Ben Solo found his way back to the light.

Where does that leave them now, though?

More huge bodies pass in front of the flimsiplast, grabbing brightly-colored boxes from the shelves across the way. Ben can just make out the shapes of other humans inside the boxes, although the details are indistinct. _It is a prison,_ he tells Rey, nudging her with his thoughts to take a look. _The boxes are other cells._

 _Why portable?_ she asks. _And what’s with the flimsiplast? That’s not secure at all._

 _Whatever drugs they put us on are strong enough to make cell materials irrelevant. And I don’t know why it’s portable._ The cynic in Ben has an idea, though. Drugged and restrained, waiting in a tiny cell for hours… if this was the First Order, the next step would be interrogation, then execution.

Rey picks up on his thoughts. _Why would they want to interrogate us, though? The giants have no stake in the conflict between the First Order and the Resistance._

 _That we know of._ Another thought strikes him. _They could be bounty hunters._

 _Oh, that makes sense,_ Rey says. _You would think they’d use Force-dampening cuffs, though._

The words hit him like a lightning bolt. _Kriff, Rey,_ he says. _I’ve felt so slow, I haven’t even been thinking. We can use the Force to blast our way out of here._

 _My head’s been a fuzzy mess, too,_ she says. _Here, let me try._

He can feel the swell of the Force, but nothing happens.

_What did you do?_

_I was trying to break the restraints. Maybe they are Force-dampening._

_Let me try._ Ben focuses, first on his restraints, then on hers. Although the Force sings, connecting them, for some reason he cannot get a firm grasp on anything in this world.

 _Perhaps there’s some kind of wildlife nearby,_ he hypothesizes. _Something like the ysalamiri that can create Force-neutral bubbles._

 _Then why can we still communicate mentally?_ Rey asks.

 _I don’t know._ It’s a good question. _I suspect the bond supersedes everything. If we share a soul, we’re effectively the same person._

 _Huh. I hadn’t thought about it like that._ Rey thinks for a few seconds, and he catches a whisper of both humor and embarrassment across the bond. _Does that mean if we do it, we’re just…_

He catches on to her train of thought and laughs internally. _Masturbating?_

She giggles. _It’s an interesting philosophical question, don’t you think?_

 _Very interesting._ Now, however, he’s thinking about _doing it_ with Rey, not getting out of here. To have her bare beneath him at last, strong limbs encircling him, body accepting him eagerly…

 _Focus,_ Rey chides teasingly. _There will be time for that._

 _Force, I hope so,_ he says vehemently. _I refuse to die without knowing what it’s like to be inside you._

 _You are inside me,_ she says.

_I’m pretty sure you’d know — _

_You’re in my soul,_ she says, talking over him. _And in my heart._

And oh, if his heart was still beating, it would be fluttering with joy right now. _How did you turn that conversation sentimental?_ he asks, feeling the urge to cry.

Her Force signature flutters with amusement and fondness. _No reason why we can’t have it all._

It’s a good thought, and it makes Ben even more determined to escape these bounty hunters.

Just then, something blocks the harsh light that filters into their cell. Another giant, although this one is smaller, her round blue eyes just about level with Ben’s own. A child, perhaps. She presses a hand to the flimsiplast, indenting it.

“You want those ones?” a taller giant asks, bending down next to the girl. Their eyes match—a mother and daughter.

“Yes!” The little girl puts her hands on either side of the prison, and then the entire cell is _moving,_ tilting and flying through the air at a disorienting speed. The view vanishes as the giant child clutches the entire thing to her chest.

 _Portable cells,_ Ben remembers. _They’re moving us to a secondary location._ He knows from bitter experience that few of the First Order’s targets survived reaching a secondary location.

He’s terrified, although he doesn’t want Rey to know. He needs to be strong for her, rather than making it worse. He tries to stay stoic, imagining his mind to be as still as his body.

As usual, Rey sees right through him. _No pretending,_ she says, her own fear apparent in her tone. _We’re in this together._

At least they aren’t dead; or at least, Ben’s pretty sure they’re not. He must have been taken away from Exegol by a bounty hunter who then targeted Rey, dosing her with toxins to make her weaker and weaker until the hunter could strike and abduct her.

The voices are muffled slightly by the giant child’s body, but the creatures are so large, their booming proclamations hit Ben’s sensitive ears, anyway. “What does she have there?” a deep male voice asks.

“Rey and Kylo!” the girl says.

Ben’s stomach drops. No chance of claiming mistaken identity, then. There are probably holos being circulated through the galaxy that show his and Rey’s faces, eliminating any hope for anonymity.

Rey’s anger surges across the bond. _It’s Ben,_ she snaps mentally.

“No,” the male giant says. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on,” the mother says. “You know how much she loves them.”

“It’s a cynical marketing ploy by Disney, aimed at appeasing the fans who ruined the entire Star Wars franchise—”

“Excuse me?” The mother giant sounds angry now. “The fans who ruined the franchise?”

“Yeah, you know, the ones who thought a war criminal was hot—”

“Why don’t you just say women and have done with it?” the giantess shoots back. “You don’t like that women touched your precious franchise and got their icky romance germs all over it.”

Ben shares a baffled silence with Rey. What in the galaxy are these beings talking about? What franchise? Is Disney one of the warlords who have been carving out territory at the edge of First Order space? Ben wishes he could remember any of the warlords’ names, but in his defense, he was rather distracted by Rey at the time.

“It isn’t a romance—”

“It is,” the giantess interjects. “They kiss, for God’s sake! You just don’t like the idea that TLJ was told from a female perspective.”

“She just kissed him to say thank you…”

Rey’s chuckle echoes across the bond. _I don’t know what they’re arguing about, but in what universe does a woman kiss a man to say thank you?_

Ben can't help but agree, and he's glad his own kiss with Rey was clearly a mutual expression of romantic interest.

“And besides,” the male giant continues, “it’s teaching young girls to romanticize abusers. I won’t let my daughter buy that trash.”

“Have you ever heard of metaphor? Or allegory?”

“I have,” the giant child pipes up, her voice vibrating through the flimsiplast. “We’re studying Aesop’s fables in school this week.”

“Look,” the female giant says. “Even your child has a better grasp of storytelling than you.”

“This isn’t something I want to discuss in front of her—”

“But you’re willing to tell her she’s wrong about her favorite characters? What a great, empowering message that sends.”

“Kylo Ren committed genocide!”

 _That was Hux,_ Ben says to Rey. At the exact same moment, the female giant says, “That was Hux,” much to Ben’s gratification.

“But he was complicit!” The giant’s voice is a deep rumble, so loud it seems to vibrate in Ben’s bones.

 _I think I figured out what this is,_ he tells Rey. _It’s a tribunal. They’re putting me on trial for war crimes._

 _What?_ Rey’s mental voice is outraged. _Since when is that common practice?_

_Maybe there’s a new political faction in charge. Or we’ve been captured by this Disney warlord. They do things differently in Wild Space._

_I’ll testify on your behalf,_ she says stubbornly. _I’ve seen your heart. We share a soul, for Force’s sake! I can tell them you’re redeemed, that you’re committed to atonement._

It’s a nice thought, but he still feels sick, because he suspects this isn’t going to go the way either of them want it to. _They’re probably going to put you on trial, too,_ he says. _For not killing me when you had the chance. For believing in me. Maybe even for loving me._

He immediately freezes—mentally, at least, since his body is still held tight by drugs and shackles. They haven’t said _that_ word yet, even though it’s been apparent in every shared breath and thought since he tossed his saber away.

 _I do love you,_ she says, tears in her voice. _And I know you love me, too. I just don’t understand why they can’t let us be together._

 _Because people are cruel,_ Ben says. _They care more about vengeance than redemption. They’d rather toss a bad man off a cliff than hear him say he wants to make the world a better place._ He’s been one of those cruel people, after all. He understands how small and angry the human heart can be.

 _So what, I should have proven my goodness by murdering you?_ Rey asks bitterly.

The giants are still arguing above them, voices so loud that Ben’s ears hurt and his stiff, frozen body feels like it’s going to shake apart. He focuses on the soft, cool place in his head where Rey has made a home for herself. _You aren’t like other people,_ he says. _Your dreams aren’t tainted by their petty striving and vindictiveness. Your heart is bigger than that._ There’s a beat of stillness, broken only by the dark rumble of the giants bickering over Ben’s fate. _And just because you believe in me,_ Ben finally says, _doesn’t mean others can expand their narrow worldviews to feel the same._

Besides, he himself isn’t sure this isn’t what he deserves. He did commit war crimes. He _is_ a monster. If Rey didn’t love him, he might greet a trial and execution with relief.

 _But I do love you,_ Rey says. _You’ve committed awful crimes against me, and I still love you. Not for who you were, but for who you became when you discarded Kylo Ren. That takes a lot of courage, Ben._

He’s never wanted to hold her more. What cruel fate insisted that their bodies would forever be close, yet eternally apart? The first time he held her, she was dead, for Force’s sake. They had, what, ten seconds to kiss and fall into each other? And now she’s here, her fingertrips so close to his own, and he can’t reach out and kriffing touch her.

“We’re getting them,” the giantess proclaims loudly, cutting off the male giant. “And that’s final.” Her voice is quieter when it comes next, but Ben still hears it. “It’s about time Disney learned that women hold the purchasing power.”

Then they’re moving, the cell dipping and shifting with each of the child’s strides. A sliver of light filters in, nearly blinding Ben. He watches the white floor go by, periodically broken up by the movement of enormous feet. There are a lot of giants here, wherever _here_ is. Is every human trapped in those cells going to be put on trial?

The next hour is a blur, full of strange sights and stranger sounds. After a period of jostling, they end up in the giant girl's lap. She stares at them with what looks oddly like affection. A massive engine roars somewhere beneath them, and Ben realizes they’re in an airspeeder. They zoom through the giant’s world, heading towards an unknown fate.

#

 _Are you all right?_ Ben asks when the tumultuous journey is over and their cell is finally still again.

 _Just worried,_ Rey says. _I don’t know what’s coming next._

They’re on their backs now, still strapped down and facing the ceiling. The flimsiplast is crinkled from rough handling, distorting the view even further, but the bright lights overhead are blinding.

It’s all a little too similar to the interrogation chamber where he really, truly met Rey. Those minutes in the forest on Takodana, exhilarating as they were, didn’t give Ben a chance to feel anything besides antagonism and fascination. The interrogation, though… that’s when he truly felt Rey’s mind for the first time.

There’s a particular squirming guilt that comes with remembering the scene. His cruelty, his boorishness— _you know I can take whatever I want —_the way he cared more for his needs than her comfort. And yet, there’s a pleasure in the memory, too. For all his cruelty, he was… aroused.

 _This isn’t like that,_ Rey says, reading his mind again. _Nothing’s like what happened between us._

He laughs a little. _Isn’t that the truth._

The giant child appears again, wielding what looks like a torture implement, and horror fills Ben's still heart. Two blades snap together, the _snick_ loud in the still air. She slices through the flimsiplast like it’s nothing, then angles the blade down towards Rey.

Ben screams internally. _Leave her alone!_ he shouts inside his head, as if that’ll make any difference. Why can’t he move? Why can’t he stop this? What if he’s finally reunited with Rey, only to… only to…

 _It’s all right,_ Rey assures him in a shaking voice. _Whatever happens… I love you._

 _I love you, too._ He’s crying inside, his grief an uncontrollable torrent that tears his soul apart. The dark side of the Force surges at such raw emotion. If Rey is hurt… if she… dies… he knows he will fall to the dark again without hesitation.

Maybe then he’ll have the power to fight their captors.

The blades slice through something with a popping sound. Ben cries out, but then Rey’s voice fills his head.

_Ben, Ben, it’s all right. She cut the cuff on my wrist._

He sniffles a little inside, although on the outside his eyes are as wide and unblinking as ever. _Really?_

_Yes!_

There are a few more snips of the nightmare shears, and then the giant girl reaches into their cell and picks Rey up. Ben watches, desperate to see that his love is unharmed. This is the worst torture imaginable—to be so close to her, but unable to move even his eyes, unable to grab her hand or wrench her away from their torturers...

The giant child waves Rey in the air, plump hand clenched around her waist, and Ben flinches to see his love treated so roughly. She’s still as a board, utterly unmoving, and… wait.

Something’s wrong about Rey’s body. Besides the stiffness, her proportions are just… off. Legs too long, waist too small, bust too large. Her hair is straight and shiny, combed out rather than tied back in her messy scavenger buns, and it looks fake. When the giant child tilts Rey, Ben can see that her hazel eyes are far too large. It looks like they’ve been painted on.

 _Ben?_ Rey’s worried voice infiltrates his head. _You look… strange._

 _You do, too._ He shares the image of her face across the bond, and she shares one back. He blanches at his own blank, painted eyes and the smooth, plastic look of his black hair. _What’s happened to us?_ he asks, horrified at their physical transformations.

“Oh, she’s so pretty!” the older giantess proclaims, rushing over to inspect Rey. “Let’s get Kylo out, too.”

 _It’s Ben,_ Rey protests across the bond. Her mind, like Ben’s, is churning with confusion and terror, but he can tell she’s trying to be strong, clinging to her sanity with the steely resolve that took her from Jakku to the stars.

The torture device descends again, and Ben braces himself as the giantess snips through his bonds. The cut at his neck is especially terrifying, but when the blades brush against his skin, it makes a harsh sound, like metal scraping plastoid.

Something is very, very wrong.

“He’s so handsome!” the giantess says. “What are you going to do with them first?”

For the life of him, Ben can’t figure out why these bounty hunters or warlords or jurors are commenting on their physical attractiveness, rather than far more salient points. Such as: why are Rey and Ben, human beings, currently as hard and stiff as plastoid? Why are they here at all? _Where_ are they? After the torture, are they going to be executed for their crimes?

And kriff, what kind of parents would encourage their child to torture prisoners?

“We’re going to play house,” the giant child announces nonsensically. 

_Ben, I think something terrible has happened,_ Rey says. He feels her horror climbing, a sour tide that threatens to swamp both their rationality. She suspects something awful, but her mind is too chaotic for him to discern what it is.

 _Breathe,_ he tells her in a moment of true stupidity.

 _I can’t!_ She shouts at him. _Because… because…_

A hand fists around his ribs, and then he and Rey are being carried to a new destination. He can see it in the distance: a house with one half stripped away to reveal the rooms inside. It looks too small for him and Rey to fit; perhaps this was designed for smaller prisoners?

He doesn’t see interrogation chambers, though, only fancy furnishings, like what he remembers from his childhood in Hanna City. Four-poster beds, tasseled cushions, couches with intricate scrolled backs. There’s even a 'fresher and an antiquated-looking kitchen, although Ben isn’t sure what good that will do him when he’s frozen stiff and about as tall as each room.

 _Oh, no,_ Rey says. Her panic is a wild, blaring alarm across the bond. _Oh, Force._

 _What is it?_ he asks, struggling not to panic in the face of her fear.

_Ben, I think… I think we really did die._

_No._ He refuses to accept it. _It’s fine. We’re just prisoners, and they’ve drugged us. We’ll find a way out…_

She’s crying now, a soft weeping across their mental link that feels like a winter rainstorm in that part of his brain that knows feelings, not words. _You didn’t have a normal childhood,_ she says as they step ever closer to that half-house. _You don’t know what this is. But I do._

Dread crawls in his rib cage like some slimy, clawed animal, and he finds he doesn’t want to know what’s happening, after all. _You didn’t have a normal childhood, either,_ he argues.

_Not normal, but even I recognize this. We died, Ben, and for whatever reason, we’ve come back as… as..._

They’ve reached their destination. The giant child shoves them into the bedroom, laying them down on silk sheets. It’s nice to be lying next to Rey, but Ben’s legs stretch far past the foot of the bed.

“Here,” the child says. “Now you can be together.”

Ben lies stiff and uncomfortable, his side smashed up against Rey. The feeling is all wrong. Their skin doesn’t brush together softly. It’s a hard feeling, like what he imagines stormtroopers would feel when pressed together in a small space.

He thinks of Rey’s painted eyes, of the way her body has been stretched into unrealistic proportions. He thinks of his hair—his one vanity—and the way it doesn’t move when he does. Something’s happened to them to make them less than human, to make them…

 _Dolls,_ Rey says in his head. _We came back as dolls, Ben._

**Author's Note:**

> The spoiler: Rey and Ben die in canonverse, then are resurrected as dolls in the modern era.
> 
> More to come, unfortunately.


End file.
